How Long Will This Last? (Maxley)

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Max may have patched things up with Bradley and Cara (well, sort of with Cara), but that didn't mean all of his problems were suddenly miracled out of existence. He knew going back to school on Monday would be absolute hell, especially if he ran into Tank. He also knew that things would be even worse for Bradley. But he decided to let Bradley deal with his own issues. Now that they weren't together, Max couldn't spend all his time worrying about Bradley, even if trying to solve Bradley's problems seemed easier than solving his own.
Max shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It was hopeless. He was hopeless. Even when he tried forcing himself to think about other things, he eventually came full circle back to Bradley. He wondered if his brain would ever stop doing that. Probably not.

Max took in a breath, mentally preparing himself, before knocking on Amy's dorm room door. Despite all the times he'd gone to her room and painfully regretted it, this trip was unfortunately necessary and he almost hated himself for caring.
It took longer for her to answer than Max would've expected, but eventually, a disheveled looking Amy opened the door, a terribly depressing look on her face. Her hair was wild and a complete mess, and she still wore her pink pajamas, despite it being noon. He would've expected her to be drunk by now. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were black smudges of mascara splotched around her face, all of which were more than likely results of crying.
Max felt a twinge of sympathy for her, even if she didn't really deserve it. Alas, he felt bad that Tank had cheated on her, even though she had planned to do the same thing to him.

She rubbed at her heavy eyelids as she spoke, "Max? What are you doing here?"

Max shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to be awkward. "I know we're not really friends or anything. Actually, I don't even like you. Like at all-"

"Are you done?" She asked.

"Do you wanna talk? About last night? I mean, it's not really any of my business, but I don't think Tank or Bradley, or anyone really, is gonna offer to listen," he said and shrugged. "Just, if you wanted to get stuff off your chest, or whatever."

"Shouldn't you be off kissing Bradley or something?" She remarked, crossing her arms.

"Uh, no actually," Max folded his arms too, though unlike Amy's, his action held sadness, as if wrapping his arms around himself would bring comfort. "We've decided to just stay friends," he said.

"Oh," Amy let her arms fall to her side. "Well, you don't seem very happy about it."

Max shrugged. "It is what it is." They stood there for a moment longer. "So are you gonna let me in or what?" He asked.

Amy sighed, but ultimately stepped out of the way, inviting him in. "Fine, get in here," she agreed.

Other than Amy, the dorm was empty, which surprised Max. Usually her room was practically vibrating with loud music and sweaty kids dancing, even at this hour. But it was quiet. Too quiet, even.
He looked around, realizing only then that it was the first time he'd seen the place lit up with natural daylight. Every other time he'd been in there the curtains were closed and bright neon lights were always flashing around. But her room was clear and clean of the usual party trash. It almost made Amy look normal.

"Don't you have any roommates?" Max asked as they moved to sit on her couch. Her room was a lot bigger than Max's, so much so that it made him glad she'd never seen the inside of his room.

She sighed and rubbed a tear from her eye. "They're all hanging out without me," she said.

"Oh, that sucks," he sympathized. He tried being genuine, though he wasn't really sure if he actually felt bad for her or not. His opinion on Amy had been fluctuating a lot recently.